


Frills and Felonies

by persistent_pedantry



Series: The Collected Escapades of Minerva and René Galliard IV [8]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2020-10-17 07:30:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20617289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persistent_pedantry/pseuds/persistent_pedantry
Summary: Remember that one episode where Jessie and James entered a competition to steal the grand prize, a Pokemon Egg? That's basically this.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, finally, actual paragraphs!
> 
> I wanted to write a full story for this but only ended up writing two chapters. I've considered continuing it, and with the second chapter you'll probably see what I had planned, but other projects have long since taken charge. Maybe someday.

“René, what in fresh fuck am I doing?”

It’s a beautiful day. The sky is clear, the air is crisp with faint clouds forming with each breath she takes. Then again, Anistar is rarely any different; she’s yet to see it rain here. As of current, Minerva hasn’t stopped ‘talking’ to René for the past two minutes, which is something noteworthy even for her, especially considering how he’s miles away, and she’s purely depending on his little telepathic skill to help them communicate properly — if at all.

“You’re meeting Alexander’s friend. I already told you this before, and I thought you were better than to use such colloquial language. ‘Fresh fuck’? Honestly, Minerva.” René’s voice resounds quietly in the back of her mind, causing her head to ache. He’s piggybacking off her psychic ability, more or less, but as long as they can maintain communication until she meets this woman, she’ll have to deal with this. What was her name anyway? Serena? That’s one of Alex’s friends, right? “Victoria,” René sighs, Minerva blinking away an annoyed expression.

“Was that just luck or have you gotten better?” She asks.

“Luck.”

“Damn it, Renny.”

Frowning surlily, Minerva continues through the growing crowd with a steeled expression, giving a sidewards glare to anyone approaching her. She really doesn’t need this whole ‘Aw, are you lost?’ crap that she normally needs to go through. No reason to be nice until she gets to Victoria—

“Hey, isn’t that the model from Tojour?”

Oh, how convenient. Slipping through the crowd, crimson eyes flit from face to face, searching intently for her mark... okay, fine: ‘coordinator’. God, she still can’t believe she’s doing this.

“Minerva. Hopefully you’ll be hearing chatter about a model, or possibly an actor. She’s been on Tojour and she has a contract with Boutique Couture. Blonde hair, average height, most likely wearing black,” René explains, Minerva giving a pensive nod as she looks around. There’s a lot of blonde women. How is she even supposed to—?

“Mary! There you are!”

What.

A young woman hurries towards her, smiling relievedly as she pulls out a Poké Ball, blonde hair bouncing lightly as she approaches. Oh, okay, so that’s Victoria, but Mary? Really?

“Goodness, you need to stop running off! I won’t be able to find you someday,” Victoria remarks, laughing despite herself. “Back in your ball, dear. We have a show to prepare for.”

“René—“, Minerva begins,

“Whatever it is, Minerva, just remember what we’re doing this for,” René replies, earning a stifled scowl from the Gardevoir, an obstinate smile taking it’s place as she’s cloaked in a red light, disappearing into nothingness.

_Five Minutes Later..._

The world returns to view, Minerva taking a heavy sigh as she looks around, her lips pursing in disgust. It’s all pastel colours — mainly pink, but still pastel colours.

“Believe me, I hate it just as much as you do, dear.”

Looking over to the voice, the source puts the Poké Ball away, placing it in her bag before placing that down by a tacky-looking vanity — well, that’s what Minerva thinks of it, anyway. She’s definitely deserving of the whole modelling thing, at least. She’s not drop-dead gorgeous, but that just seems to add to the whole ‘natural’ thing she’s got going on. ‘Refined beauty’ is probably the best way to describe it — well, describe her.

“I’ll admit, this isn’t my first touch with illicit activities, but apparently you and your owner need a Princess Key for some reason I won’t ask about, and one could always do with the exposure, no? So let’s just deal with this whole... thing, and both come out the better.”

As much as she’d love to slap this Victoria woman out of the careless use of ‘owner’, her homosexuality is practically shackling her to her place. Bondage, ooh la la. Minerva gives an indifferent shrug, looking around before falling back on one of the several comfortable-looking chairs in the dressing room, Victoria nodding as if the Gardevoir did some sort of interpretive dance on how eager she is. Yet, Minerva is far from eager to even get out of her seat.

Pulling a knee-length, black lace dress from the thickly filled wardrobe, Victoria gives it a brief once-over with a lazy shrug. “Oh, it’ll do. I really don’t want to be searching through dresses; I was told to wear black, anyway.” Laying the dress on the vanity’s mirror, Victoria takes off her jacket with a curious look to Minerva. “You don’t mind if I get changed here, do you?”

Desperately keeping the excited glint from her eyes, Minerva shrugs. Interpretive dance doesn’t sound that bad, actually.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria does contestant stuff, Minerva does thief stuff. Hey, go figure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll have to excuse there not being an actual roster; I had a GIF with all the names but it doesn't want to transfer over.
> 
> Anyway, here's the second and final (for now) chapter! Completing this is still on my To Do list but very, very far down.

_**”Welcome to the 54th Kalos Pokémon Showcase!”** _

The crowd roars in excitement, Minerva pursing her lips to the point they might burst as she listens. She doesn’t like crowds, nor has she ever; there’s far, far too many people to just flaunt around in front of. What if someone gets suspicious? What if there are officers? She might look like any other ‘Voir, but if she has to even make a peep of noise and isn’t able to, there are going to be narrowed eyes in her direction.

“Mary,” Victoria begins, resting a hand reassuringly on the Gardevoir’s shoulder, “I know it’s scary, but it’ll be over before you know it. There have been worse scenarios.”

Minerva nods, visibly unsure about what those ‘worse scenarios’ might be. She can’t fight back here, not really. Too much risk of collateral damage to civilians, and she doesn’t do that — unless she can’t help it, obviously.

Girl by girl, the grand stage begins to fill with contestants, the announcer... well, announcing each one as they approach their designated spots. They didn’t have a whole lot of rehearsal time, but it was enough — only just, though; if Minerva hadn’t spent so much time sulking about having to be some sort of diva, they probably would have neatened up the routine a bit more.

“... all the way from Hoenn for this Showcase!” The announcer had said, Minerva not having caught most of it. The crowd seemed very eager for whoever it was, though.

“We’re probably going to have to watch out for her. I’ve seen that Ruby girl before and she’s a bit sly about how she does these pageants,” Victoria murmurs, Minerva looking up to her briefly before simply shrugging it off, looking back to the stage. It’s their turn in four... three... two... one...

“Let’s welcome Victoria Williams to the stage! You may know her from Tojour magazine, or her many shoots with Boutique Couture, and she’s here today with Mary!” The announcer announces (of course he does). The crowd seems very eager about her being here, especially the men — why are there even guys here? Is this a girly thing to watch? Minerva has never been, nor watched, a Pokémon Showcase in her life. She honestly has no idea what she’s getting into.

Standing to the front-left of the allegedly named Ruby, with Minerva to her left, Victoria clasps her hands with a polite smile, waiting for the procession to end.

“What’s the matter with Sausage, Vicky? Is he sick?”

“My name is Victoria, and his name is Haggis. His actual name is Sclymgeour, but I doubt you can even remember what I just said, never mind pronounce it.”

“Aw, really? Insulting me? That’s low, Vicky, even for you.”

“Bitch, I will shove my fist so far up your ass, you’ll be tasting strawberry hand lotion for weeks.”

“Now that was just plain rude.”

“Meet me at the Freestyle and I’ll apologise.”

With Victoria looking back to the crowd after the brief back-and-forth, the amused smirk that had risen on Minerva’s lips soon fell after hearing the announcer introduce a ‘Jessie and Jane’ to the stage, Minerva looking over to see a bordeaux-haired woman walking on to the stage, closely followed by a blue-haired, flat-chested tomboy. Well, she says tomboy, but they’re dressed in rather extravagant clothing. She only says this alleged Jane is a tomboy due to their hairstyle and lack of chest — but then again, they could easily be a transvestite. You never know.

“Do you see those two, Victoria? Jessie and Jane?” Minerva questions, the voice echoing in the back of the models mind.

“I do. What of them?” Victoria replies, glancing down to the Gardevoir, then to the pair in question.

“Don’t you think they seem a bit... off?”

“No? What do you mean?”

“I mean, ‘Jane’s anatomical structure seems more masculine — very masculine, actually.”

“It looks quite effeminate to me.”

“Do you have glasses? Do you need glasses? That’s a guy.”

“How uncouth. She seems like a perfectly normal woman to me.”

Minerva sighs heavily, lazily rolling her shoulders as she waits for the introductions to finish. Perhaps she’s just being paranoid; that wouldn’t be unusual. She has a good cover going, and even if someone’s coming out of nowhere to try and take the prize (whatever it may be) from her, they’ll have another thing coming.

Once the contestants had been introduced, the announcer faces the audience, beaming widely. “Now, I’m sure many of you already know how the Pokémon Showcase works, but if it’s your first time, or if you just need a refresher, here’s what we have in store!”

Above the stage, a grand screen, which had previously been displaying each contestant as they arrived, shows a series of tournament brackets.

“It’s a simple tournament system: our twenty-seven Performers will be put into groups of three for our first Themed Performance, and the winner of each group will move on! The nine who enter the second Themed Performance will go through to the final round: the Freestyle Performance! The winner of the three will be rewarded with a Princess Key, 500,000 Pokédollars, and with a special prize!”

“I’m willing to guess that I’m here for that ‘special prize’,” Minerva muses, Victoria barely hearing the voice over the roar of the crowd.

“There is some good competition here, so perhaps winning that prize will hold more difficulty than you might expect,” she says, brushing a few stray hairs behind her ear. “However, I’m sure that we’ll do just fine. All we have to do is work in our best interests.”

With a brief nod from Minerva, she and Victoria look over to the announcer as he continues his explanation.

“In a short while, we will be showing the groupings for the Themed Performance, but first, we have a pressing matter, don’t we?” The announcer says with a hearty laugh, bringing a hand to his far hip to prepare for a glamorous flourish. “Our first Themed Performance will be...

Battling!”

The usual roar of applause follows suit, soon accompanied by a rising wave of confusion. The announcer, grinning as if he had pulled the greatest flourish of the century (which he must be close to claiming; it was very glamorous indeed), lowers his splayed hand to motion towards the screen again, now showing images of Pokémon battling with grandiose and flair that seems far too flashy to be practical.

“Ah, but this is battling with a twist, ladies and gentlemen! This is a Showcase, after all!” He continues, as the images continue to fade from one to the other. “Much like some of the Contests a few of you older fans might remember, back when PokéCubes were still all the craze,” he begins, chuckling reminiscnetly, “our judges will be gauging the flair and overall pizazz of the Pokémon’s moves, rather than their power — and, of course, how glamorously our Performers introduce those moves, and handle themselves in the face of a majestic three-way battle!”

“Mary, you’re going to hurt yourself. Stop grinning so much,” Victoria scolds, frowning at the ecstatic looking Minerva. Battling. Oh sweet baby Jesus, this is going to be so, so much more fun that she thought. It doesn’t matter if she has to do it with her eyes shut and with glitter everywhere, she’ll be able to whoop some ass and look fabulous doing it. The battles won’t last long, either: these Pokémon are meant to sit straight and look pretty, not to battle. She’ll have to go easy on them.

“Somebody seems excited,” a blonde Performer giggles, smiling eagerly at Minerva.

Giving a stern tap to Minerva’s shoulder, Victoria shakes her head with a brief, If amused, sigh. “She’s always excited for any excuse to battle. I swear, she would be better as a Champion’s Pokémon than a Queen’s.”

“Well, there’s always time to change ambitions, no? Less competition for the rest of us,” she jokes, grinning to herself.

Victoria chuckles softly, looking to Minerva briefly. You’d like less competition, wouldn’t you? “Yes, yes. I suppose so. I think I’ve come too far to give up now, though. I do like to battle every now and then, but I don’t think that it’s for me.”

“That’s understandable. I like it, but I’m not very good. The type matchings have always been hard for me to remember,” the blonde admits, smiling sheepishly before looking to the now speaking announcer in surprise. Was he speaking before and it just became background noise, or—?

“Now, without further ado, on to the groups!” he exclaims, leaving Victoria and the blonde Performer equally confused as to what the hell he could have been talking about to take him this long to get around to the groups.

“And here they are!”

_[The roster of contestants shows up on the screen.]_

Looking over the board, Victoria frowns in confusion, looking over the Performers. “Wait, Frieda’s here? Did she dye her hair?” She murmurs, Ruby nodding with a small giggle.

“Yeah, she’s the one wearing the beanie. Willing to guess the dye job didn’t go too well,” she explains, Victoria wincing with a poorly restrained smirk.

“Ouch. Well, that’s terribly awful of her. I almost miss her inflamed hair.”

“It did basically look like it was on fire.”

“It would have looked better if it _was_ on fire.”

“Nice,” Ruby scoffs, looking over to the petite girl with the white beanie. To compensate, it looks like she had a tomboy look going on. “Then again, even with burned hair, it’d still look better than yours, Vicky.”

“You wish,” Victoria retorts, chuckling quietly before looking back to the crowd.

Minerva, completely separated from the drama, was still thoroughly enjoying the insults being thrown about. She might end up stealing a few insults while she’s here.

“Now that the Performers and their Pokémon have been introduced, and the first Themed Performance’s theme is revealed, our Performers will have exactly one hour to prepare for their battles!” The announcer announces (obviously — my god, how many times will I break out that joke?) “During that time, we will have a brief commercial break, followed by the scheduled programmes. See you in an hour, viewers!”

The crowd roars in excitement, a member of staff nodding behind one of the cameras as the Performers, Victoria and Minerva included, are ushered off the stage, and towards their dressing rooms. Odds are that they’ll be escorted to a more appropriate place for training, but appearance comes first. Each group of three are escorted by two guards each: one at the back, one leading at the front. Going backstage, the vibrant colour and ambience drains away, leaving a drab, white corridor with a simple grey floor. There are a hell of a lot of dressing rooms.

“So... hey,” Minerva begins, looking up to Victoria. “There’s going to be an hour’s break, right? Do the people who’re actually here just go and grab something to eat and come back like a normal live thing?”

“More or less,” Victoria replies with a shrug. “Some of the watchers will place bets as to who will win the first round, and maybe start the stakes for who’ll win the Showcase. I’m not absolutely sure on how it operates, though.”

“Neat.” Minerva looks around the rather bland corridors for a moment before speaking again, her tone more... clandestine, if you could even have a clandestine tone. “So... hey, where would they be keeping this ‘special prize’?”

“Locked away. Remember that this is a governmentally funded and endorsed event. There’s a very large amount of security here, so please don’t get in over your head. I would actually like to win, and that’s rather hard to do when your partner is in cuffs.”

“Seems fair to me.”

“Thankfully.”

At roughly halfway through the vast corridor, Victoria and the rest of the group are stopped by a group of deep red doors, a colour almost identical to blood. How very fitting.

“These dressing rooms contain everything you will need for the Performances. There will be a wardrobe labelled ‘1’ which will contain anything you might need for your first Themed Performance. If you have any questions or reque—“

“Oh, we know, we know!” A voice exclaims, Victoria and Minerva looking back to the young, purple-haired woman. Jessie, right? Yeah, Minerva doesn’t trust her whatsoever, especially given that she has enough flamboyance to turn a priest into Wild Cherry. “Can we go to the stage early? I want to get used to exactly where I’ll take that Princess Key!”

“Jessie, I believe it is, keep your voice down. Your tone is so shrill you could trepan someone just by singing at them.” Victoria sighs, looking back to the guard.

Jessie gasps dramatically, a hand on her chest. She begins to retort, only to be cut off by the guard loudly clearing his throat.

“You cannot, Miss. The stage will be being prepared for the Performance. Please also refrain from arguing with one-another. As much as viewers adore drama, it should be kept on the stage, at the very most. An angry expression doesn’t look that glamorous.”

“Words to live by,” the third girl remarks, earning a nod from the guard.

“Indeed. All rooms are identical save for colour scheme, but these are the red rooms. Please choose your rooms, and use the call button if you should need anything.”

“Thank you, sir,” Victoria replies with a curt nod, turning left to take the closest dressing room: Number 33.

There was more said, probably more done, but neither Victoria nor Minerva heard any of it.

The room is not tacky, surprisingly. The dressing room for before the Performer Introductions was pink and just pretty garish in general. Pink can be pulled off well, but not like that. This, however, is a nice shade, much like a fine red wine. It doesn’t seem like anything is worth much, but that’s from a rich girl’s point of view — and a larcenist’s. At the thought, Victoria looks to her fellow Performer messing around with the music system. It’s fairly quiet, but it seems to be more for ambience than actually listening to the music.

“They’ve got Saint-Saëns on here,” Minerva remarks, surprisingly happy about this occurrence.

“You like classical music?” Victoria asks, Minerva shrugging in response.

“Romantic, but it’s pretty good all the same. I just really like this one piece he did, Danse Macabre?”

“I know the one, I know the one.” Victoria opens the labelled wardrobe, humming at the contents, unsurprised. There are some tactical items in there: a Focus Sash, a Life Orb, a Quick Claw; the usual stuff. There’s also a notice saying:

**FOR BATTLE ITEMS**

**PLEASE PRESS THE CALL BUTTON AND REQUEST YOUR ITEM(S). A MEMBER OF STAFF WILL NOTIFY YOU IF THE ITEM(S) ACCORDS TO PERFORMANCE RULES, AND SUPPLY ACCORDINGLY.**

“How useful. Mary, do you need anything?” Victoria asks, looking over to the Minerva, scouting around for anything worth stealing.

“Nah. I don’t use tactical items a whole lot. My dad used to have a Silk Scarf, but he gave that to my brother. He gave me a Gardevoirite which I really want to use at some point.” Minerva explains, frowning in disappointment. Nothing.

“Well, what’s stopping you?” She asks, looking at the sulking Gardevoirite.

“Mega Evolution is a very tricky thing to do. René and I have tried before, but... eh. We’ll do it eventually. Also, don’t call me Mary while we’re talking telepathically. Please.”

“What if someone listens in?”

“Tha...” Minerva pauses, faltering in her protest. “Actually, yeah. That sort of makes sense, but I’m pretty freakin’ sentient for a Gardevoir. Should I just go ‘Gar! Gardevoir!’ or whatever wilds do?”

“No, no. It should be fine. Just try not to speak a whole lot.”

“Cool. Alright, so... should we start getting ready and stuff?”

“I need to get changed, but do you need to do anything?”

Minerva shrugs, sitting down on a blood-red leather chair with a nonchalant shrug. “Just watch you and stuff, really.”

“Why do you have to be gay?”

“Why do you have to be attractive?”

“You’re legally counted as a fully sapient being, right? Like a human?”

“Yep.”

“Have you heard of sexual harassment?”

Minerva pauses again, her amused smile dropping, replaced by a defeated scowl. “Yep.”

“I’m sure you have other things to do, then.”


End file.
